


With little water we form a year

by sandyk



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Chromatic Yuletide, Gen, set in s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: This, Connor thought, was Dr. Latham's idea of consolation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cutiesonthehorizon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiesonthehorizon/gifts).



> Not mine, no profit garnered. Thanks to Old Friend for Chicago accuracy, all mistakes mine. Title from Laurie Sauborn Young's After Odysseus Says She's Beautiful.

Dr. Latham asked, "What does your family think of your tattoos?"

This, Connor thought, was Latham's idea of consolation. Connor had screwed up a surgery. It wasn't a bad screw up, the patient would live. Dr. Latham had been there to fix Connor's small slip. But it was a still a screw up. Someone else would have patted Connor on the back, said nice things about how everyone made a mistake, it was the way you learned. 

"Claire, my sister, she's not that into it. She says she feels like the only person she knows her age who doesn't have any tattoos. My dad, the one time he saw one of them, just made a disgusted face. But I feel that way about most of his choices, so I wasn't hurt," Connor said. He wondered if Latham would come back with something about honoring your parents. He kept expecting judgment. 

"How did you choose them?"

"Without a lot of forethought in most cases," Connor said. "I got my first one when I was in high school, a few more in college, another one in med school."

"You were in school," Latham said, with his odd emphasis. "Why mark your body permanently without thinking?"

"There was thinking," Connor said. "Just not a lot and not very thought out. Mostly the thought was I want to look cool." He almost smiled, he was surprised to be comforted. 

Latham said, "Everyone says your family is wealthy. Are you personally wealthy?"

"I am," Connor said. "My grandfather made the money, he created trusts for all of us. At various points my dad was shamed into adding more into mine and Claire's trusts. Even my three colleges didn't put much of a dent into it. So yes, I am personally wealthy. It's the only way I became a doctor." This was becoming cold comfort.

"But your father has more money," Latham said.

"He invited Dennis Rodman and Scottie Pippen to his birthday parties, and they came. When they played, not after," Connor said. "So yes. He has more money than me."

"Do you get it when he dies?"

Connor looked at Latham and couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Probably not, honestly. Or not that much." The bluntness of Latham's inquiries were starting to be disarming and not irritating. Connor would have to tell Manning she'd been right. The man did grow on you. 

"I grew up in Brooklyn," Dr. Latham said. "No trusts involved."

"You should start one now," Connor said. "You live in Highland Park, I bet half your neighbors are brokers."

"I already have a financial advisor," Latham said. "I don't need your advice."

"Got it," Connor said. It was stupid to feel amused by the near rudeness of the comment. "I don't have a financial advisor. I should take my advice."

"It's helpful not to worry about money, put it in someone else's hands," Latham said. "Like having me to make sure your mistakes will be fixed in surgery."

"Just like that," Connor said, frowning. Maybe this wasn't anything more than Latham sitting next to him. Since when did Latham check up on Connor? "Why are you still here at the hospital?"

"My wife is picking me up. She hasn't texted me yet that she's here," Dr. Latham said.

Dr. Downey hadn't been married, Connor wasn't married, but Dr. Latham was. Latham might have felt more pressure to pair off than Connor or Downey did. It was strange to think of Downey, his open humanity, and his love of the sea - he was the one of Connor's mentors who didn't have a wife. Maybe it was the work. Maybe Downey had been too open, in his way, to let a partner into his life. 

Dr. Latham said, "Your grandfather built a department store, what did your other grandfather do?"

"You have a lot of questions today," Connor said. "My mother's father drank away his money and wrote incomprehensible meditations on Lutheran theology."

"They sound interesting," Latham said.

"I tried to read them, they made no sense."

"How old were you?"

Connor looked over at a nurse coming out of a room. He said, "You know, I was 15. I bet I didn't get half of it. That doesn't mean it made sense."

"Maybe it's worth a second try," Latham said. Then the subject was over. Latham said, "My father's father was a librarian. My mother's father went from University to World War II. He didn't die from combat, he died from disease in 1944. My grandmother was convinced he wasn't given adequate medical care. She may have been right."

"Did you ever think about being anything besides a doctor?" 

"No," Dr. Latham said. Another subject settled. "Did you?"

"Yes," Connor said. "Rock star, briefly drug dealer, arsonist and then doctor."

"Maybe you would have been a good arsonist," Dr. Latham said. He smiled briefly, but widely. 

"No," Connor said. "This is all I'm good at."

"It's satisfying when you're good at something you want to do, and more satisfying when you are excellent at it," Dr. Latham said. "I wasn't calling you excellent."

"I didn't think you were," Connor said. "I actually thought you were sitting with me, making conversation, as you way to comfort me."

"Really?" Dr. Latham frowned. "No. I don't why you'd need comfort after today's surgery. No one died. No one is permanently maimed or paralyzed. Your hand slipped. Next time you'll know how to fix it yourself and being less afraid of a slip, you won't make it again. Or not as often."

"I don't slip often," Connor said.

"No. You are rarely a careless or indifferent surgeon. Very rarely," Dr. Latham said. "So why would I need to make you feel better?"

"I guess you wouldn't," Connor said. "Though you kinda have."

"But I already said feeling bad about today's surgery could only be a minor emotion with no logical basis," Dr. Latham said. 

Connor laughed. "You win, I didn't really feel bad. I guess I just thought I did."

Dr. Latham nodded. "You know, now that you mention it, I recall being quite frustrated with even the simplest of errors in surgery when I was at your stage in my career. Perhaps you were truly upset."

"I don't want to say that now," Connor said. "You said it was minor. I'm perfectly fine. Not the least bit upset."

"Good," Dr. Latham said, standing up. "I have to go now. Your sister should meet my wife, she's another woman of her approximate age in Chicago who has no tattoos."

"I'll let Claire know she's not alone," Connor said.


End file.
